Snapshots: Tezuka
by Diva-esque
Summary: There's more to Tezuka than tennis, right? Wrong.


Aishuu Offers: 

**Snapshots: Tezuka**

A Tennis No Oujisama Fic

Disclaimer: Konomi Takeshi, manga-ka.

Note: Written about two years ago, some non-canon parts.

* * *

He had tried to quit once.

He knew that tennis was his life, but inside of him, there was an empty feeling. He didn't always like playing. It was routine sometimes, something he wasn't always fond of. His father would drag him out of bed - a cardinal sin - and remind him that the day began at dawn. He liked to sleep in... he liked other things... and he hated feeling like a tennis machine.

So he tried to quit.

It didn't work.

He managed to stop for all of a week. That week had been the emptiest of his life - his hands had ached for his racquet, and every time he passed the court, he forcibly had to turn away. He wasn't sure why things were that way - wasn't he more then tennis?

That had been when he realized the essential truth. He was tennis - there was nothing else. Until he reached the hurdle that was in front of him, he couldn't quit. So he began to play again. It took a month to repair the damage the week off of training had done.

But Tezuka Kunnimitsu did it, because he knew he had a goal. He would be the best, because there was nothing else in sight.

* * *

When he entered junior high, he hadn't been sure what to expect. He had been planning on joining the tennis club, but he hadn't been expecting to have all the senpai look at him like he was a bug that needed to be squashed.

But that came later.

After the first day of classes, he had immediately gone to the tennis courts, intent on signing up. The club had been practicing, and he had been a bit impressed at how good they were - though not good enough to beat him.

He believed in a realistic evaluation of his own skills. He had been playing since he had been three, and he knew that he could beat any of the current players practicing on the court.

"Are you going to sign up?" a gravelly female voice asked from behind him.

He turned, meeting the eyes of a woman in her fifties. "Yes, ma'am," he said.

She laughed at him, clapping him on the shoulder cheerfully. "You'll do good here, Tezuka," she told him. Her eyes looked him over. "I think we've been waiting for someone like you."

He had been confused. "What do you mean?"

"Why don't you get on the court and see?" she asked.

He had nodded, and brought out his tennis racquet.

That had been his first meeting with Ryuuzaki Sumire.

* * *

When he sat by the koi pond, his family would leave him alone. There were no responsibilities, and he could merely sit there, feeding the fish. They were beautiful, and it was restful to watch them fight over the little bit of food he would idly drop in.

It wasn't often that he had time to come into the yard. His family lived in an old fashioned house, one which his father's high-powered corporate job paid for, but he never saw his father. The only thing he could remember was being shaken awake early in the morning by a rough hand when the sun hadn't yet come up.

His father always woke him up before he left. Tezuka had become an early riser because of it, though sometimes he wondered what it would be like to sleep in.

But that was not how things were done in the family. If there was a day off, there was other work to be done. Tezuka would study literature or art, or play Go with his grandfather - the days of the life of a scion of the Tezuka line were full. Idle hands were not permitted.

Except by the koi pond. There he was allowed to slow down, and think.

Sometimes he wished he could stay there forever - but those thought were few and fleeting. He had been too indoctrinated in the ideals of hard work for such whimsical ideas to take hold.

* * *

Meeting Fuji was a turning point in his life.

He had always taken tennis seriously, of course, but never before had he had a rival. He had always been the best, the person who had no peer.

Then in walked Fuji Syuusuke.

Fuji was like a force of nature. He didn't actively try to shake things up; no, Fuji was more subtle than that. Fuji simply turned Tezuka's life upside down by being himself, and that was more than enough.

Fuji wasn't as good as he was; he was a player who relied on skill and talent, but lacked the sheer strength that made Tezuka's game. Tezuka knew that he could break Fuji's tricks, if given enough time.

And Fuji knew that, too. But... there was an unpredictable quality, and sometimes Tezuka wondered if Fuji was toying with him. Fuji liked doing that to people.

He realized that, because Fuji had never used all the triple counters against him. Fuji was lying in wait.

That was what made him Tezuka's rival within the Seigaku tennis club. Tezuka knew that if he slipped, Fuji would tear him to bits, all the while wearing that seemingly pleasant smile on his face.

* * *

The answers always came easily to him, when it came to school work. All he had to do was read the book, and the knowledge was his. It amused Tezuka, though he would never admit it, how the teachers were terrified of making a mistake in front of him. He was the golden child, the one who had the brains to do whatever he dreamed of, and they all wanted him to do well - and they all wanted his respect.

He respected very few of them.

Whenever he raised his hand to volunteer an answer - a rare occurrence - they ignored him. They didn't want to be overwhelmed by his intellect, didn't want to admit that he was smarter than they could ever hope to be.

They only called all him when none of the other students knew the answers, or when they wanted to race through a lesson. Lesson plans had to be kept up with, and it was his function to help in that way.

So he would sit in his seat quietly, letting his attention drift towards tennis club. Every now and then he would check what was being written on the board, making sure the answers were right. Whenever he found a mistake, he pointed it out.

After all, mental and physical perfection were important to a well-balanced person.

* * *

It was common practice for first years to go through doubles training as soon as they proved they could hold a racquet and knew the basics.

It was Tezuka's first, and only, failure.

When his turn came, he was paired, naturally enough, with Oishi. There was an understanding required to create a good pair, and Osihi was probably one of the few in the club who wasn't jealous of him.

It didn't go well.

Tezuka had a hard time yielding half the court to his partner, and an even harder time relying on Oishi to be where he was supposed to. Oishi was a solid player, but Tezuka was convinced, somewhere in his subconscious, that he could beat the two opponents he faced by himself.

They won, of course. It was unheard of for Tezuka Kunimitsu to lose, but he knew that the game hadn't gone well. There had been holes in their game, and a truly experienced doubles pair would have torn the Oishi-Tezuka pair apart, because Tezuka couldn't relax enough control to his partner.

Oishi had come to him after practice, and looked at him. "I think you should stick to singles," he told him.

Tezuka had been forced to agree.

* * *

It was a bit unsettling to be stalked. 

Tezuka wasn't stupid; he became aware of Inui's constant following of him within the first week. There was the scratch-scratch of pen against paper of Inui recording whatever he observed in his notebook, and Tezuka knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. Whenever he turned around, Inui was there, calculating.

He knew why.

The first ranking match, he had soundly defeated the other first year, totally undermining his confidence. Inui was a decent player, but there was far too much calculation in his play; there was no flair, nothing that was unplanned. It had been easy to beat him, once he had overcome the pin-pointed shots.

Inui had been fixated on defeating him since. Tezuka had accepted that, deciding that it would help Inui become a better player. But sometimes he wondered how far the obsession ran and if it was such a good thing.

Tezuka actually was thrown off balance the beginning of the first day of the second semester. Inui came to practise clutching a water bottle, but the liquid that was coming through the straw looked... green. And thick...

"It's Inui juice..." Inui was telling Fuji. "It's a special blend that's good for the body. Would you like some?"

Tezuka didn't let on, but he decided then that obsessions could go too far.

* * *

It was towards the end of his first year that Kikumaru and Oishi played together.

He remembered that, too, since he happened to be there, discussing future plans with Kuroi, who would be the new captain. He had stopped, turning to watch his friend play with the first year he only vaguely knew. It had only been a practice match, and Oishi was already a regular, but Kikumaru had been called to partner him.

Kikumaru was a likeable enough sort, Tezuka supposed, but the sheer amount of energy the red-haired boy radiated was tiring. His play style was erratic, and though he would probably evolve into a decent serve-and-volley player someday, his serve was still too weak to pull off the usual acrobatic attacks he was fond of. Ryuuzaki-sensei had her eye on him, though, so Tezuka knew he would probably be a regular by his third year. Ryuuzaku was good at picking out talent.

He watched as the two entered the court together...

And something clicked.

Oishi's steady presence backed up Kikumaru's strange attacks, and Kikumaru added flair to Oishi's rather predictable play. They fit, for lack of a better word. Watching them, Tezuka knew something wonderful was being born.

* * *

"I'M BURNING!"

Kawamura had Tezuka seriously question what the definition of sanity was. Tezuka and Kawamura were in the same class, and both of them were rivals for the title of quetest, rarely speaking - Tezuka because he was antisocial, and Kawamura because he was shy. And then Kawamura picked up a racquet...

"COME ON BABY!"

Kawamura played hard, with shots that were powerful. Tezuka felt his wrists being jarred whenever he returned the ball, but Kawamura lacked the control Tezuka had mastered. The ball went out about a third of the time, so Tezuka wasn't too concerned about the outcome.

Still, hearing Kawamura yell and mock his opponent set Tezuka's teeth on edge.

"COME ON, PRETTY BOY! I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU!"

Kawamura had been wrong about that. Tezuka had won easily, but not before thinking Kawamura might be a valuable addition to the team if he kept getting better - and if he proved sane enough.

* * *

When he entered second year, things changed. The seniors were gone, and he was now vice-captain. It was an honor, because it was as good as admitting that he would be the captain the next year. He was well on the way to being the pillar the tennis club would rely on.

It was his inherent honesty that made him admit that he was a very poor vice captain. He had a hard time agreeing with what Kuroi ordered, and he knew many of the other club members would glance to him whenever the captain ordered something, waiting for Tezuka to second it.

It was a very subtle division in the ranks; a camp of people who followed Tezuka, and a camp who followed their official captain. It wasn't that he didn't respect Captain Kuroi - no, hardly that. It was just because he was better, and the club members all knew that. Kuroi was more laid back than he was, and had a different style.

Frankly put, Kuroi was too gentle. Tezuka knew that he was too easily swayed by the team's complaints, because Kuroi was concerned with being liked. A good captain shouldn't be concerned with that. A good captain needed respect, not liking.

So he spent that year quietly waiting, knowing that when his turn arrived, he would lead Seigaku to nationals. He didn't need to be liked - he had the club's respect, and a bit of their fear.

But he could accept that. It was all for a good cause, after all.

* * *

His shoebox was full of love letters everyday.

It wasn't anything Tezuka was happy about - in fact, it made him... uncomfortable. He didn't want to deal with romance. He didn't want to deal with the girls fawning on him, or giving him hopeful eyes, deal with the meetings they tried to arrange to confess their undying love.

Most of all, he didn't want to deal with Fuji.

Fuji's shoebox was close by, and he seemed to always have a ton of letters as well. Whenever they arrived to change their shoes, a pile would fall out. Fuji would gather his up, smile, and turn to Tezuka.

"It seems we're getting popular, doesn't it?" he would say every day. His smile was sweet and totally benign, which made the hair on Tezuka's arms crawl. Whenever Fuji looked innocent, it meant he was getting way too much amusement at someone else's expense.

Tezuka would merely grunt, stare at his own letters helplessly, and wonder if they could be marked "return to sender."

* * *

The ball rose into the air, and he focused on it... and served.

It was his first game of the tournament, the first time entering the stage of inter-scholastic sports.

Tezuka was the vice captain, and no one knew of him. He would change that, today.

His opponent watch in awe as the ball spun past him, striking just inside the corner. It was an ace.

Murmurs stirred the crowd as Tezuka served again.

Another ace.

Again.

Ace.

He took the first set in straight points.

Then it was his turn to receive, and the opponent was determined to get his pride back. Seigaku player or not, and unknown second year wasn't going to defeat him!

Tezuka could see that desire in his eyes...

And cut it down.

He took the game without dropping a point, stepping onto the stage of junior high tennis. Around him, the cameras clicked, and he knew that others were going to remember his name...

...but he would remember his opponent.

Rokutanda Tsuyoshi of Miyuta Junior High.

He always remembered the opponents he defeated- it was his responsibility to play for them, as well as for their team.

* * *

The new year brought in new first years, and three stood out in his mind - Arai, Momoshiro and Kaidou.

Arai wasn't going to be a regular anytime soon, but he had the passion. Momoshiro was extremely friendly, and Kaidou was his opposite - those were the two he would wager on becoming regulars, after the training camp.

They also had an almost unholy rivalry.

Kuroi seemed amused by it, but Tezuka found it more exasperating than anything else. The two used it to push themselves to heights, but he worried that it could destroy them. The two should have become friends, but he didn't see it happening anytime in his life.

Well, there were always punishment laps. Tezuka tied them to tires once before making them run twenty laps, trying to get it through their thick heads that their screaming at each other wasn't welcome. He found it disruptive.

It backfired.

If anything, the two just yelled louder, blaming the other for irritating the vice captain.

From that, Tezuka learned that some things just couldn't be changed. There was no point in trying to make water flow uphill.

Besides, when they were fighting, Fuji and Inui would watch them, instead of him.

* * *

"Excuse me, sir," someone murmured to him.

Tezuka was getting used to it. With his latest growth spurt, along with sore bones, he had gained an impressive physique that had people mistaking him for someone ten years older than he was. It was weird to be thought of as someone in his twenties, when he was barely a teenager.

When he corrected the mistake, it always led to embarrassment on the behalf of the person who had thought he was an adult. When he left it alone, he was accused of being arrogant. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with it, so usually he ignored it, unless there was a pressing reason to make sure someone knew how old he really was.

He was thirteen... but bore the responsibility for the entire team. Kuroi, the current captain, was preparing for high school, so now Tezuka had assumed the captain's role. He was pleased about that. He could finally manage the team the way he wanted to.

And he had the dignity a real captain needed, he knew. He got the proof whenever he boarded a subway.

"Excuse me, sir."

* * *

The first day of his third year, there was a match against another school. Momoshiro hadn't been able to make it, but that was okay. He needed to rest his sprained ankle.

The matches didn't stand out in Tezuka's mind in particular, since he knew the new players for the prefectural games would be selected shortly in the next series of ranking matches.

What stood out that day was Ryuuzaki Sumire pulling him aside.

"Tezuka, are you ready for this year?" she had asked.

He had nodded. "Oishi will be a good vice captain." That was true - Oishi was nice and reliable, and their styles would compliment each other. Oishi was approachable, where Tezuka was not. The players would like him, while they respected Tezuka. It was a good balance.

"I wanted to tell you about an incoming freshmen," she said.

"Oh?"

"Echizen Ryoma," Ryuuzaki-sensei said. "He's very good - he's won four national titles in America."

Tezuka had been impressed, but didn't let it show. "Is it common to let captains know of incoming players?" he asked calmly instead.

"The last time I did it, the name I spoke was Tezuka Kunimitsu."


End file.
